


A Royal Christmas

by MalenkayaCherepakha



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, First Christmas, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalenkayaCherepakha/pseuds/MalenkayaCherepakha
Summary: In which Alex spends his first Christmas with the Royal Family, Henry plays football far too well, and they thoroughly make up for a week spent apart.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 16
Kudos: 290





	A Royal Christmas

Alex is pacing restlessly around the living room, his eyes flicking to the clock every few seconds. He’s been wearing tracks into the carpet for the past few hours, a mix of excitement and nerves waking him much earlier than usual, leaving him with far too much time to kill before his flight. For perhaps the first time in his life he had packed with plenty of time to spare, and, robbed of his usual last minute panic search for clothes and books and toiletries, he doesn’t know what to do while he waits. 

And he’s been waiting for ages. Far longer than the dragging hours this morning. Henry had left nearly a week ago, family duty calling while Alex’s school schedule demanded that he remain at home for a little longer. The week has felt endless, Henry’s absence somehow so much worse now that Alex is used to waking up to his face on the pillow next to him, the apartment feeling stripped of its soul without Henry pottering around and leaving half-read books on every flat surface. Alex is aching to see Henry again, every fibre of his body missing him, and phone calls and nightly FaceTimes just aren’t cutting it. 

The ringing doorbell shakes Alex out of his musings on exactly what he is going to do to Henry when they see each other again - apparently distance makes him more creative than usual - and he opens the door to Zahra, a car behind her ready to finally take him to the airport. He nearly trips over his own feet in his eagerness to grab all his bags and get out of the house. 

‘Excited for your first Royal Christmas?’ Zahra asks once they’re settled into the backseat of the car and slowly making their way through the traffic. 

Alex doesn’t quite know what to say. Of course he’s excited to spend his first Christmas with Henry—last year they’d both had obligations that had forced them to spend the day apart—but he’s more than a little apprehensive about how the day’s going to go. He’s seen Henry’s family several times over the past year, and it is getting better, easier, but things are still a little frosty with Philip and the Queen. 

‘It’ll be fine,’ Zahra says when Alex doesn’t respond immediately. ‘Just don’t go making any scenes or knocking over the Christmas cake - I can’t come up with any more crazy schemes to get you out of trouble.’

‘I’ll be good, I promise,’ Alex laughs, knowing that he doesn’t even slightly plan on being good, his mind already full of all the myriad ways he can be bad once he’s reunited with Henry. 

The flight feels like it takes forever. Alex is used to the trans-atlantic crossing by now, has done this journey so many times in so many different moods, but this one feels like one of the hardest. Being so close to seeing Henry again makes time feel like it’s slowed down, each minute dragging on forever, each hour passing so painfully slowly, the knowledge that he’s only hours away from seeing Henry, kissing Henry, somehow making it harder than when he knew he had a week to wait. He knows he’s testing Zahra’s patience, and he’s pleasantly surprised that it takes several hours until she snaps at him to please God just sit down and stop wandering up and down the aisle. He tries to lose himself in a book but tosses it aside after just a few pages, and watches half an hour of several different films before realising that nothing is going to be able to keep him distracted right now. He settles for reclining his seat and closing his eyes, losing himself in daydreams of Henry, and mistletoe, and palatial beds until the captain announces that it’s time to prepare for landing. 

His excitement is reaching nearly unbearable levels as they make their way to Sandringham, butterflies taking flight in his stomach as they drive into the estate, as he eagerly turns his head this way and that, trying to take in as much as he can. He’s used to grandeur, but the Royal Family is on another level, and it still doesn’t quite feel real that he’s a part of this world now. A sudden rush of nerves overtake him at that thought, as he once again remembers that he isn’t here just for a quiet Christmas with his boyfriend, but instead is taking part in an established tradition for one of the most respected families in the world. He suddenly feels very out of his depth, a feeling he’s not used to at all. 

But then they round a corner and Henry is there, standing outside the front door, waiting for him, and Alex forgets all his worries about embarrassing himself because Henry is smiling and that’s doing funny things to Alex’s insides, and he can barely wait for the car to come to a complete stop before he is flinging open the door and leaping out, his feet crunching on the gravel as he rushes over to Henry. 

At the last moment he remembers where he is and all the eyes that are currently on them, and he adjusts, going in for a hug that he hopes conveys how much he’s missed Henry, rather than the kiss he had been planning for originally. He knows himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to keep it to a chaste kiss after being away from Henry for so long, and he also knows that doing so would definitely break Zahra’s _‘no causing a scene’_ rule. It’s enough to be back in Henry’s arms, anyway, to feel the way Henry melts into the hug, the tension slipping away from his shoulders as Alex breathes in that Henry smell he loves so much. When they finally pull apart Alex’s knees are feeling a bit wobbly, they both have goofy grins on their faces and Alex’s heart is swelling with happiness and love. 

‘Ready for a fun family Christmas?’ Henry asks once they’ve had their fill of staring at each other, pulling a face to go with his sarcastic tone. 

‘Not even slightly,’ Alex says, honestly. 

‘Just be your usual charming self and you’ll be fine. In 48 hours it’ll all be over with and we can escape,’ Henry says, taking Alex’s hand in his and leading them inside.

Henry takes Alex upstairs so that he can drop off his bags and change out of his travelling clothes before it’s time to go and meet the rest of the family. The room Henry leads him to is massive, tastefully decorated but still screaming royalty, with a huge bed and a door leading to an en-suite. Alex abandons his suitcase in one corner, far more interested in the potential of that bed than in unpacking, and drags Henry over to the bed where he finally, _finally_ gets to do what he’s been wanting to for a week, and kiss him. Alex is just starting to get carried away, his hands slipping under Henry’s shirt to the warm soft skin underneath, when Henry sighs and gets off the bed, ignoring Alex’s pleas to come back. 

‘You know I want to,’ he says ruefully, running a hand through his hair in frustration. ‘But we’re expected, and I don’t think standing Gran up because we’re having sex would be a very good start to the festivities.’

‘Urgh, why are you always so sensible and responsible and right,’ Alex grumbles as he gets up. 

‘I can’t help it,’ Henry grins, dropping a kiss on Alex’s head as he goes to change into a more formal shirt and trousers ready to join the family downstairs. 

The first official hour or so of Christmas With The Royals is just as awkward as Alex feared it would be, full of small talk in opulently decorated rooms where he’s constantly worried about breaking a priceless vase or spilling his drink on an antique sofa. Everyone is on their best behaviour, slightly stilted as they feel their way into their traditional roles and routines. Alex has mostly been keeping quiet, an impressive feat for him, too wary of saying the wrong thing or being too loud and American to risk joining in the conversation unless he’s spoken to directly. Henry hasn’t left Alex’s side since they came downstairs, a soothing, calming presence that Alex is unbelievably grateful for. He’s not sure he could do this without Henry there. 

Alex gets some respite from the stuffy formality when they all get changed and traipse outside for an apparently traditional game of football. Henry insists Alex has to play too, and so he finds himself shivering on a huge lawn as members of the Royal Family, their staff, and some local villagers kick a football around. It’s beyond surreal. Alex doesn’t do too badly for himself, making a few relatively good passes despite never having played football before, but Henry. God, Henry. It’s just like when Alex saw him play polo for the first time. Henry is _good_ at this, his long legs propelling him along the field, his face glowing from the cold and the exertion, and the look of joy on his face when he scores a goal does things to Alex. It’s all he can do to not storm over there and drag him off behind a tree or somewhere, anywhere with a flat surface he can press Henry against, and show Henry exactly how much he loves it when he’s good at things. It’s only the sight of Philip, looking supremely uncomfortable in his sports kit, that stops him from marching right over to Henry. 

When the match finally finishes, they have time to shower and dress for dinner. Henry eventually gives in to Alex’s pleading and lets him join him in the shower, the walk in shower in the en suite happily big enough for two. The tiled floor is cold and hard on Alex’s knees but he couldn’t care less, too wrapped up in the joy of being with Henry once again, the sound of Henry’s moans chasing all other thoughts out of his mind.

They’re the last to come downstairs, the rest of the family conversing quietly over drinks when they finally make it into the dining room. Everyone’s dressed to the nines in suits and fancy dresses, and it’s a far cry from the more relaxed Christmas Eves that Alex is used to. The meal is as formal as expected, endless courses of admittedly delicious food being placed in front of him, the conversation sticking resolutely to safe topics. Alex has luckily been sat at the opposite end of the table to the Queen and Philip, with Bea on one side and Henry on the other, so he can relax a little bit, but he can sense the tension rolling off Henry in waves. Alex can’t wait for the meal to be over.

After what feels like hours, the Queen rises, and dinner is finished. Henry had explained to Alex beforehand that they always exchange gifts on Christmas Eve, so Alex is fully prepared when they retire to the living room where small gifts are handed out. He’s surprised to be given a present himself - for some reason he’d expected not to receive anything - and when he opens the silver cufflinks he’s very pleased that he’d thought to bring presents for the family too. Henry gives him a soft jumper, and Alex reciprocates with a book Henry has had his eye on for a while, but they both know that these aren’t their real presents. Those will come later, when they have some time on their own, to have their own private little Christmas. 

With presents done, the older members of the Royal Family depart for bed, and Alex, Henry and Bea take a bottle of wine upstairs, keen to finally relax. Alex hasn’t seen Bea in months, they’ve both been so busy, and they spend a good hour catching up, Henry and Alex making their way through the wine. Henry gets tactile when he’s tipsy, and soon he’s sprawled out on the sofa with his head in Alex’s lap, Bea lying on the floor, not caring even slightly that her posh dress is getting crumpled. It’s a welcome change from the dinner earlier, and Alex finds that he’s actually enjoying himself as they laugh and joke and gradually get tipsier. If June, Nora, and Pez were here, it would be a perfect evening. Soon though Bea starts to yawn and they decide it’s time to call it a night - they have to be up early for church in the morning, and Alex needs to be as rested as possible to deal with another day of this. 

But when Bea leaves, suddenly the prospect of sleep doesn’t seem that interesting. Henry always looks so damned good in a suit, and now, when he’s loosened his tie and undone the top few buttons, his hair rumpled from resting in Alex’s lap, his face happy and open, Alex can’t stop himself. Tangling his hands in Henry’s hair, he pulls him down into a breathtaking kiss, a kiss that Henry quickly responds to, sighing into Alex’s mouth and wrapping his arms tightly around Alex’s waist. They stumble over to the bed, Henry pulling Alex down on top of him, their bodies aligning in the most blissful way, and then it’s all heat, and want, and pent up desire as they begin to grind against each other, the pressure delicious but not quite enough. Alex wants more, needs to feel skin and every inch of Henry, and they hurriedly strip, Alex too desperate to properly enjoy the sight of Henry shedding his suit, revealing more of his body. 

Once they’re both naked, Alex returns to kissing Henry, hands roaming as he kisses down his neck, pausing at the spot on his collarbone that always makes him sigh, moving on down Henry’s chest and further, teasing as he goes. Touching and kissing, he turns Henry into a puddle of moans and breathless requests for more, _more_. When Alex slides into Henry, it’s like coming home, and the rush of emotion that floods through him is almost more than he can take. He doesn’t have the words to tell Henry, can’t find the words to do his feelings justice, so he leans down and kisses Henry, hoping that he’ll understand. Judging by the way he pulls Alex in closer and kisses back eagerly, he does. They begin to move together, and everything fades into the background, everything but Henry blurring into nothingness. Alex forgets that they’re in a palace, that the Queen is just several rooms away, that tomorrow he has to get through a stuffy traditional Christmas with a family who still aren’t quite sure of him. That all disappears as his mind is consumed with _Henry, Henry, Henry_. 

Afterwards, once the aftershocks have finished and the rush of pleasure has been replaced by a simmering contentment and satisfaction, Alex lies with his head on Henry’s chest, listening to his breathing, still slightly quicker than normal. Henry is stroking lazily up and down Alex’s arm, his fingertips leaving a tingling trail on Alex’s skin. It’s so peaceful, and Alex thinks, not for the first time, that he’s unbelievably lucky, to have fallen in love with Henry and have him love him back. It blows his mind sometimes, to be honest. That thought lingering in the back of his mind, he shuffles around so that he’s facing Henry properly, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of him, happy and dishevelled, cheeks still slightly pink from their earlier exertions. 

‘What?’ Henry asks, when Alex doesn’t say anything, just watches him.

‘Just— Happy Christmas,’ Alex says, before kissing Henry, his words failing him once more.

When they pull apart again, Henry is grinning, his face flushed.

‘Happy Christmas, Alex.’

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Red, White, and Royal Blue fic, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are massively appreciated ❤


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